Happy Endings
by imalionrawr010
Summary: Carolina, aka Callie, just wanted to meet her father. She didn't know about the life she was about to be thrown into and the choice she'll have to make: love, her, father, and the MC or the only family she had ever known. T for language. For now.
1. Truth Uncovered

**I thought I'd do something a little different. I have a few ideas and I really wanted to write them down. Let me know if you guys like it; if you do, I'll write more. However, my first SoA story, 'Daughter of Anarchy,' is my top priority right now. Still, review please! :3 Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter one<strong>

Secrets are meant to be shared. Usually my mother had always told me everything. But when it came to my father, things got hairy. That was one secret she swore I would never uncover. I remembered sitting at my desk in second grade during the Father's Appreciation day the school had set up, because Father's Day was in June but Mother's Day was able to be celebrated by the kids, alone, bored, and sad. All the other kids had dads to give gifts to. I didn't have jack shit. Mom was never home, never came to any school function, didn't eve unwrap the Mother's Day gifts Davy, my older fraternal twin brother, and I would give her that we made at school. I asked her once who my father was and she transformed into some kind of monster I didn't want to see ever again.

As the school years passed, my depression about not being able to celebrate like my friends did turned into aggression. In my sixth grade year, during "Father's Appreciation Day," I poured a bowl of blood red punch on my mortal enemy Mary Lou Werner. She had taunted and teased Davy and I, saying that we were fatherless children of a whore since she could learn how to read and her father made her read the Bible. Of course I was blamed, called a shiftless hobo in sheep's clothing. Father's Appreciation Day was then stopped from being celebrated in middle school.

When I got into high school, the subject of Davy's and my father became less of a sensitive subject, but Mary Lou still spat poisonous insults at my brother and I when she could. I broke my promise of never asking my mother who my father was, asking her every chance I could. And every time I did, it turned into World War III at the Williams home. Davy told me to stop asking her, that it was destroying the relationship she and I had. I didn't give a shit; he was half of my genes! Half of who I was. I want to know why it was such a big damn secret. And why my own brother didn't care to know.

College was a little bit tougher. Mom had insisted on filling out all of Davy and my papers. Of course it was so she could avoid me asking about my dad. Still, I was dying to know. She hadn't written his name on either of our birth certificates, but there was child support coming in the mail every month. I remember her bitching about it a few times, saying "he's late, like always." So obviously he wasn't dead. Davy and I had gotten full rides to the University of Texas at Austin. Davy had gone through the legal part of the school and I decided to be a graphic designer. Finally tired of begging my mom to tell me who sired Davy and I, I submitted my blood to the Travis County Investigative Labs. They ran my DNA through every database they could. And got a hit.

He lived in Tacoma, Washington. And was a known criminal. His rap sheet wasn't long, but the crimes he committed were semi serious. Armed robbery, grand theft, evading arrest, and to top it off, assaulting a police officer. Then right there, just under his name, was his address. The one I could send something, or show up to if I was so inclined. I chose the second. I sent him a letter

_My __name __is __Carolina Susanne __Williams. __My __mother __is, __unfortunately, __Jessica __Williams. __Do __you __remember __her? __I __hope __so, __because __you__'__re __my __father. __I __know __this __may __be __a __shock __or __sound __a __bit __suspicious, __but __it__'__s __true. __I __ran __my __DNA __through __the __Travis __County __data base __and __your __name __showed __up. __My __whole __life, __I__'__ve __wanted __to __meet __you, __talk __to __you, __hug __you. __I__'__ve __never __known __the __loving __touch __of __a __father. __Mom __never __got __remarried. __Or __married. __Actually, __I __don__'__t __know __if __you __were __married; __she __won__'__t __tell __me __anything __about __how __Davy __and __I __came __to __be. __Yeah, __I __have __a __twin. __He__'__s __ten __minutes __older __than __me __and __he __holds __it __over __my __head __as __much __as __he __can. __From __your __mug __shot, __the __three __of __us __are __obviously __related. __Enclosed __is __a __picture __of __Davy __and __I. __It__'__s __our __senior __picture. __If __this __seems __legitimate __to __you, __please __answer. __It __would __really __mean __a __lot._

_PS, please, if you answer, call me Callie. Only my mom calls me Carolina. And I hate it._

Two weeks later I received a reply. I had been so excited; I needed my roommate to read it to me. Thank God Davy and I lived on separate parts of campus. He would be furious to know that I had ran my – our – DNA through the system. He was a potential lawyer and didn't want anything to mess up his already sparkling background. Finding out he came from criminal loins would ruin him.

_Dearest __Callie,_

_ You __really __have __no __idea __how __long I've__waited __for __some __kind __of __communication __between __us. __Thank __you __for __the __letter. __Yes, __I __remember __your __mother. __Clearly, __by __the __way __you __write __about __her, __she hasn't__changed. __Thank __you __for __the __picture, __also. __There__'__s __no __denying __you __and __your __brother __are __my __kids. __It__'__s __been __a __very __long __time __since __I __last __saw __you __two. __Your __mother __had __taken __you __kids, __my __truck, __and __all __the __money __in __our __bank __account. __Apparently, __she __went __to __Texas. __I__'__m __truly __sorry __I wasn't__there __for __any __part __of __your __life; __I __wish __I __could __turn __back __the __clock __and __do __the __right __thing __for __you __and __Davy. __You __two __are __in __college __right? __Please __keep __writing __to __me. __Things __are __a __little __crazy __up __here __in __Tacoma __and __that __last __letter __somewhat __grounded __me. __I __know __it doesn't__seem __like __it, __and __we __barely __know __each __other, __but __I __love __you __and __Davy._

_ Sincerely, your father_

We wrote back and fourth for years. Eventually, I graduated from college with a Bachelor's in graphic design but Davy was still going to school for his hopeful career as a lawyer. I wanted to visit my father and he wanted me to visit as well. But I was a kid fresh out of college, and he said he hadn't a lot of money either. So I stuck out the dreadful heat of Austin, Texas and my terrible job in the heart of the city.

And now, here I stand, in front of my mirror in my bedroom in the cheap apartment I rented. I studied my light olive skin; finally free of the annoying adolescent acne I had been cursed to deal with in high school and college. My chocolaty brown eye sparkled in the faux lighting the lights in the bathroom made. The dark, thick, brown hair that cascaded just past my shoulder blades had actually come from my mother's side. As did my figure – thank goodness.

I hated my life. I hated the people I was forced to talk to on a daily basis. My mother was constantly trying to set me up with men I didn't like. She was pressuring Davy and I for grandchildren. Honestly, she had better luck with Davy. He was still dating the same girl he had been with since our junior year in high school. I, however, had been on a dating binge since I had been 17. A new boyfriend every six months or so, I dated them until the sex got boring. I couldn't help but chuckle as I reflected on my dating history. It made me seem looser than I actually was.

With a soft sigh, I stepped into the hot water that had been shooting out my shower head for the last three minutes. As I rinsed and lathered my hair I felt the familiar bubbling of excitement mixed with nervousness. The job offer in the tiny town of Charming, California had been a godsend. My father had recently moved there and the new job paid great. Actually, better than the job I had now. I was leaving for Charming within the week. Most of my things had already been moved to my dad's place, where I would live until I found a suitable home. All my mom and brother knew was that I had been offered a job in California and I had taken it. Both would kill me if they knew I was living with the father he had tried to hide from my brother and I.

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><p>I felt rushed. The house was filthy, which wasn't my fault, and no one was trying to help me clean it before my long lost daughter returned to me. It had been way too long since I had seen her or my son. I wished he could have come along with his sister. Callie had told me over the phone that Davy had given up on having a father years ago. While I didn't blame him for not putting his emotions on the line trying to find someone to replace me, I was a little hurt that he didn't care.<p>

Callie had said that her mother had tried to keep me a total secret. Did that gash seriously think that her children – our children – wouldn't want to at least know who their other half was? My mother was right; I should never have married Jessica Williams. But I wasn't about to tell my mom I knew she was right; I had been in love and no one was going to tell me otherwise. Still, I was thankful I had talked Jess out of a ceremony and just went to the courthouse and signed the papers. What an embarrassment she had been in the last few months of our marriage. It was a subject I often avoided and frequently hit people for bringing up.

In a corner of my kitchen, three members of the Redwood Chapter of the Sons of Anarchy sat eating the food I had bought for Callie. Juice had been the first one to stick his stupid hand in the fridge and take out the red apples I had bought. Callie had told me red were her favorite and the green ones were too sour. She had gotten sores before from the tart Granny Smiths. Chibs had followed the Puerto Rican by taking a banana. Tig had taken a pudding cup from the six I had bought for myself. I was slightly perturbed that the three of them sat around while I ran back and forth, throwing this away, running that upstairs, and trying to find my cut.

"Hey, relax dude," Juice stood from the table and stopped my pacing. "I'm sure Callie's not going to mind a little disorganization. After all, you did get her room put together. She'll probably really appreciate that."

I stared at him, mulling over what he had said. I hated admitting it, but it was true. Every damn word that retard had just spit out was right. I breathed in deeply and nodded, following him back to the kitchen table. Tig offered me one of my own beers as I as at the dinette. The yeasty liquid, surprisingly, quenched my thirst. I soon found myself with an empty Corona bottle in front of me. Tig, being the one who sat closest to the fridge, leaned backwards after opening the door, offered me another. Politely, I refused. I didn't want to be piss drunk when my kid showed up.

It was 4:36 pm when Juice and Chibs began to play Rock, Paper, Scissors. Tig and I lounged on my couch, watching a rerun of some lame ass show that was on VH1. My heart skipped a beat when the sound of asphalt under tires entered my ears and the smooth sound of a BMW X3 engine being shut off told me that she was here. I practically fell over Tig as I scrambled to get to the door.

For at least two minutes, I stood there, probably looking like an idiot to the other guys. I didn't care; I was going through last minute worries. Growling a little and shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I swung the door open. There she stood, on my front porch, fist poised to knock on the door that was now not there. Slowly, she put her hand down and smiled. I could hear the other three behind me, trying to get a peek.

"Hey, dad."

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><p><strong>So, what do you guys think? I really like it. And I hope you guys do too. Let me know :) I don't own anything SoA related. Williams family, however, I do.<strong>


	2. Retrieval

**Wow! I'm really surprised by how many people like my newest fic! Thank you all, so very much for all the subscriptions, favorites, and reviews. They really do mean a lot :] DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything Kurt Sutter, SOA, or FX related. Williams family is my creation. BTW, anyone know Happy's real first and last names? I can't find them...**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"Hey, dad."

The way she said it, it was as if she had been saying the words her whole life, practising for this one moment. A purse sat on my daughter's shoulders and she dropped her car keys into it before latching her arms around my neck. I was sure I looked like a total pussy infront of the other guys as I held her tightly. But it had been 27 years since I saw her. At this point I didn't care if they saw me cry.

But I pulled away from Callie and tried to get a good look at her. Her hair and body type were her mother's, to the T. But her eyes and skin, that was all mine. I hoped she had my charming personality as well. She smiled again, studying me. I could help but feel a little selfconcious about my bald head. My head wasn't bald because I had no hair, but because I liked to keep it that way. Less maintenence.

"So, are you going to let the girl in or make her sleep on the porch?" Chibs called, breaking my focus on my child. No, she wasn't a child anymore. But I felt that she would always be that little girl in the picture Jess had sent me out of pity when I reached out to her when the kids were four. I stepped to the side, allowing Callie to come into the house.

I watched cautiously as she looked around, admiring the knick knacks my mother had demanded be put on the walls or in cabinets. Remembering that there were three other men in the house, I got a little nervous. Did she know about the MC? I doubted it; if Jess had neglected to tell her who I was or where I lived then she wouldn't have said anything about the Sons. Callie saw what was on the tv and smiled.

"Hey," Tig tok a few steps forward from where he had been standing near the couch, extending his hand for a handshake. "Welcome to Charming."

Callie took his hand and shook in polietly. "Thanks. Name's Callie."

"Tig."

Juice was next to introduce himself. That dumbass smile of his scored his face as he told my daughter his name and engaged her in a momentary conversation.

"Nice to finally meet you, lassie," Chibs was the last to speak. "Your da talked about you and your brother often enough," Callie gave a small laugh and glanced back at me for a moment. "Real name's Filip, but call me Chibs."

"Don't tell me, you're Scottish." She noted. I almost rolled my eyes and said 'no shit,' but it was her first time meeting him.

"Ah!" A wide smile grew on his face. "How about where I lived? Can you tell me that?"

"Hmn," Callie thought about it for a while. Juice, Tig, and myself watched, waiting to see if she would guess the right city. "I'm going to say Glasgow?"

"You've got a smart one here, Hap." Chibs winked at me.

"Hey, uh, you hungry?" I asked, not knowing what to do next. Should I lead her to the kitchen or wait until she said something?

"No, not really. I had a big lunch in Los Angeles with a couple friends."

"Something to drink, then?"

"Uh, water will be fine." Callie shrugged, taking her purse off her shoulder. "Do you have a bathroom I can use? My contacts are drying out."

I pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, which was up the stairs. As Callie walked up the stairs, I glared at my friends who watched her as she walked away. I glowered at the three of them. Chibs caught my my scowl, widened his eyes and sat at the table. Juice and Tig whispered amongst themselves; the only thing I caught wass "that ass." Narrowing my eyes, I punch Juice in the shoulder, squarely on the bone. I turned to Tig who held up his hands, apologising profusely. Pushing past both of them I got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.

Callie came downstairs not long after I had sat the glass down at the seat next to where I sat. On my right sat Chibs, Tig, and then Juice who was attempting to nurse his injured shoulder. My daughter wore glasses and took a long drink of her water before sitting at the table. The long hair that had framed her face was pulled back into a tail. Her sidebangs hung in her face. With her hand she guided the bangs out of her eyes.

"So, what's been going on lately?" She asked, popping the knuckles in her hands. I smiled to myself; if I remembered correctly, Jess hated that. Claimed it caused arthritis. But I had done it anyway and Callie had followed in my footsteps. I wondered if Davy was more like their mother.

"We're going to Canada."

Tig ran a hand through his hair and Chibs shook his head. Callie widened her eyes a little bit and nodded. I rolled my eyes; there goes Juice, blabbing about shit he shouldn't have. "I've been to Canada. It's just like the States."

An awkwad silence fell over the four of us. Callie took a drink of water, Tig counted the tiles on the kitchen floor, and the other two stared off into space. I decided it was up to me to keep a conversation.

"How was the drive?"

Callie sighed sharply. "Looong. Morning traffic in Austin was awful, as usual, and I made it to LA had lunch and had enough time to miss traffic. Other than that it was vast emptiness."

"Is that a new BMW or used?" Tig asked, adding to the conversation. I was still kind of burnt that he has commented on my daughter's rear end in front of me. However, I was thankful that he wasn't letting the conversation die.

"It's a 2007 model and I bought it for ten grand from an elderly couple in 2008. They paid for it in full but were tired of it. It was either that or a Range Rover. But after extensive research, I decided against the Rover." Callie explained. Juice opened his mouth to reply but Callie spoke first. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have to know. What's with the leather vests?"

The four of us exchanged glances. Over the years we had explained the MC to many women, but for those who had kids, it didn't need to be explained. I had once thought of how I would explain the Sons of Anarchy to my kids if I had ever met them, but now that the time was here, I froze. Callie wasn't a child, so I couldn't trim the fat on what the MC did. But she also wasn't a member or an old lady, so she wasn't privy to everything.

"We're in a gang," Juice said, stupidly.

"It's a club." Tig and Chibs stated firmly.

"We're more like motorcycle enthusiasts." I chipped in.

Callie gave us all a blank stare. I could tell she was taking it all in, wondering whether to believe the whole truth, the somewhat truth, or the bare minimal truth. Really, they were all the truth, just some more correct than others. "So which is it? Gang or club?"

"Club." Tig spoke up.

"So are you guys a club of grease monkeys who ride around on bikes and fix cars? Or are there underlying illegal activities?" Callie had summed up everything about the club in those two sentences. I looked at the others before answering.

"Er, yes."

"Is it just the four of you...?"

"No," I took the opportunity to answer this time. "There are others. I invited them to be here, but I'm not sure where they are."

"Oh," Callie nodded, taking another drink of her water.

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><p>My father was in a biker gang. The rap sheet I had recieved in Texas hadn't said anything about this so called club. For the first time ever, I wasn't surprised my mother hadn't wanted to tell Davy and I that detail. However, the three members I had met so far seemed really nice. I secretly hoped the rest would be as kind as these three.<p>

Chibs was an older fellow, with greying black hair and a gray goatee on his chin. On both sides of his mouth where long scars, obviously where he got the nickname Chibs. Tig had dark, curly hair on his head and facial hair as well. The blue eyes that were his were slightly haunting. Juice, however, was a child compared to the other two. His hair was brown but styled in a shortly cropped mohawk. One both sides of his mohawk were tribal lighting bolt tattoos. I wondered, sense I had to take several breaks getting a smallish sparrow sitting on a branch of a cherry tree because of the pain, how badly his had hurt.

The guys called my dad Happy and I kind of wondered why, but I didn't really feel like asking. He looked exactly as he had in his mug shot, which must have been a recent one. Little to no hair, and of the stubbles I could see, they were graying. He had dark skin, darker than mine. Which was understandable; he was all Mexican and my mother's Caucasian genes watered down my color.

In my jeans pokcet, my cell phone began to ring. Rolling my eyes, already knowing who it was, I pulled the smartphone from my back pocket and slid the answer bar to decline. The group of bikers watched me as I texted a halfassed excuse why I didn't answer my phone. In at least four seconds, I had gotten three texts, chastising me for ignoring the call. As a solution to the texting, I turned off my phone.

"Was that your mother?" My father asked, sitting back in his chair. I nodded.

"Hap, I told you that gash was bad news. Fuckin' psycho." Chibs shook his head.

"Well, she did give him kids..." Juice spoke softly.

"And then took them like, 2,000 miles away. Even my ex let me see my kids when they were growing up," Tig defended my dad. "But not one call, email, text, or letter until Callie was in college."

"That letter had to come from missy here, too. I wonder why your boy didn't try and contact you."

"Jess-" Dad began to speak, but I wanted to answer. Davy was my twin, the friend who always had my back. I couldn't let his reputation go to the dogs without even trying to defend him.

"From an early age mom's brainwashing got to Davy," I interrupted my dad, giving him an apologetic look. "She told us that you were often drunk and sleeping with other women. As we got older, I took it with a grain of salt and Davy took it to heart. Everytime I mentioned trying to find you, he'd roll his eyes. Or say something to the effect of he and I were meaningless to you, 'if dad wanted us, he wouldn't have treated mom so badly.'"

Silence fell over the dinette, and I sort of wished I hadn't said as much as I did. At least not infront of the others. I studied my dad's face. It was hard to tell if he was angry or thinking of what to say. Looking at the other guys, they seemed to be wondering the same. With my thumb nail, I chipped at the table we sat at, flaking away little pieces of wood.

"Hey, it's almost five thirty. Clay wants us for chapel tonight at six." My dad said, breaking the most awkward silence I have ever sat through. The other three murmured, remembering their meeting and standing from the table. I felt it impolite to just sit there while everyone left, so I stood and said goodbyes and nice to meet you's.

While the other three got on their motorcylces and roared off, my father shut the door and scratched a spot behind his ear. I felt awful and wished I could somehow take what I had said back. He shook his head and gave me a light smile which he also paired with another hug. I hadn't really noticed it before, but when I returned his embrace, I took a nice whiff of my dad's cologne. Somehow, it seemed rather familiar.

"Shall I take you on a grand tour?" He asked, putting an arm over my shoulder. I could still smell his cologne. Trying to pinpoint where I had smelt this before, I attempted to answer without hestitating.

"Sure, but if you need to get going, then I won't hold you up."

"Ah," Dad waved his hand, dismissing being late. "Clay'll understand. You'll like Clay. And Gemma. Anyway, you saw the living room, kitchen and front porch. How much of upstairs did you see?"

"Uh, just the hallway and bathroom."

With the light smile still on his face, my dad lead me upstairs. There was a door immediately on my right after we got up to the landing that I hadn't noticed before. On the left was the hallway, one door was there right after we turned onto the hallway and then perhaps ten feet down the hall was another door, next to it the bathroom I used and a few more feet down, another room.

"Well, this is your room," He pointed towards the door on the left of the bathroom. "The one on the right it a guest room, and the door all the way down the hall, on the right of the stairs is mine. I really hate to leave you all alone, but I can take you to the clubhouse someother time. See you later?"

"Of course, we do live in the same house. At least for now." I nodded. My father gave me one last hug. I couldn't help but be a little surprised when he added a kiss on my temple before leaving.

As he walked down the hallway, I took notice of the back of his leather vest. On the top was an arched patch that said Sons of Anarchy and on the bottom of the vest was another arched patch that said California. In between the two arches was a bigger patch, a Reaper with a crystal ball in his left hand. In the Reaper's right hand was a rifle with a sythe attached to the tip of the guns barrel. On the crystal ball was the outline of an "A" with a circle around it. The symbol of anarchy. With a small sigh, I entered my room. I hoped I wasn't getting myself into something dangerous.

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><p>Eleven fully patched members of the Redwood Original chapter sat around the table. It had been decided that everyone would pool as much money together as we could to pay the bounty hunter that would find Jax's kid. Poor guy had been broken up for weeks over the kidnapping of his only child. It probably didn't help that his mom was on the lam for a crime she didn't commit. Clay had decided that Tig would ride up to Rogue River in the morning to watch Gemma with a few others of the Oregon Sons.<p>

"So I hear, one child is gone and another has appeared. Hap?" Clay looked up at me. I was a little surprised to see so many sets of eyes on me. How badly I wanted to roll my eyes; I couldn't lie and say my kids weren't here. Three of us already knew. I couldn't help shooting a glare at Tig. It was most likely him who had blabbed it to Clay.

"Yeah, my daughter's moved here. She got a job offer which was better than the one she had in Austin." I admitted.

"It probably helps that her daddy's here, too, huh?" Jax commented, a little smile on his face.

_No, you little shit,_ I thought while laughing with the rest of the guys. _You will not touch her._ It was then I decided to keep that thought to myself. Twenty-seven years had passed since I saw her, I barely knew her. I couldn't just go off half cocked at every guy who looked at her lustfully. Already I had done too much by hitting Juice on the shoulder.

"When're we going to meet her?" Clay asked.

"I did invite you guys over tonight," I reminded them all. Each member who had not shown up either looked away or pretended they didn't hear me. "But I'll have to talk to Callie, see what her plans are."

"Bring her over tomorrow," Clay offered. "It'll be Saturday, she won't be working."

I nodded. "Alright, I'll ask her when I get home."

"Awww, Happy's gone all daddy on us," Kozik spoke, using a mocking tone. Some of the guys laughed along with him and a few shook their heads.

"Don't push your luck." I growled.

"Alright, alright," Clay chuckled. "Easy boys. Chapel dismissed."

As the gavel hit it's block, everyone stood and left the privacy of the chapel and headed to the bar. Looking at the display on my phone, I noticed it was barely seven. I watched as everyone headed for the bar, even Jax who had a distraught old lady at home to take care of. Clay looked more defeated than his stepson. I couldn't remember a time when Clay didn't have Gemma by his side. It was time like these thatI had always been glad my kids were out of state, protected by the Satan's Spawn. I was slightly appalled that I had found that if Jess had been framed, for something she didn't commit, that I would be willing to turn her in.

I left the clubhouse, headed for my bike where it sat with all the others. Tig walked behind me, lighting a fresh cigarette. As I plopped down on the seat of my bike, I put my helmet on. Tig draped his arm on my handle bar, like he had something to say. Waiting for one of my closest friends to open his mouth, I lit my own cigarette.

"So, glad to have Callie back?" He said, flicking ash off of his cancerstick. Again, I nodded.

"I would have preferred to have her and her brother back together. And it would be nice to have at least helped raise the two of them." I admitted, shrugging while doing so.

"Know what you mean, brother," Tig nodded. "If it hadn't been for my ex, my girls would probably be better off. Or at least I'd like to think so."

I laughed loudly. "You keep telling yourself that, killer. Ride safe tomorrow, alright?"

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><p>I sat at my dinner table, which was actually just a poker table, with napkins and salt and pepper on it. In front of me sat a heavy, glass ashtray Callie had gotten me for a birthday. It was hard to believe that after smoking a cigarette from our mother's pack at 16, she and I were still smoking. My phone was attached to my ear, my hysterical mother sobbing into my ear. Callie had negelcted to call our mother the whole time she was travelling from Austin to Charming. Aside from my sister ignoring our mother, mom apparently had some news that our father was in Charming.<p>

Of course, Callie would go looking for a job in the city where our father was convienetly living in. I wondered how she found out who our dad was. She probably kissed some ass with a friend of ours who was a Travis County officer and he ran her - our - blood through their system. Yes, I was angry at my sister. I should have known she would do something like this sooner if not later. But I was curious; why had she waited until we were two years from turning thirty to find him.

"D-davy," My mother stuttered through her tears. "You have to bring Callie back. She can't be allowed to be with your father."

"Mom, she's a fully grown woman," As much as I didn't want her near that scum bag, I couldn't make her do anything. "She's going to do what she wants."

"Davy, you don't understand!"

The problem was that I did understand. Mom had been hurt by him and she didn't want my sister to find someone just like him and have her heart broken. Although I had been fiercely protective of my ten minute younger sister throughout middle school and high school, she had always gone for the guys who were slimeballs. I took pride that I had been the one who cheered her up when she was sad about our father, angry about our mom, and depressed about a guy dumping her. Which, for my sister, was rare; usually she was the one who did the dumping. Spewing cigarette smoke from my mouth, I smashed it in the ashtray.

After about five more minutes of my mom blubbering into the phone I came up with a compromise. "Alright mom, how about this. I'll keep in contact with her and if I sense she's heading into trouble, I'll go up there and stop it."

"Oh, Davy, you're such a good son. Nothing at all like your father."

Once she and I said goodbye, I hung up the phone and lit a fresh cig. Maybe I'd make a trip out to California whether Cal was in trouble or not. After all, even though I bought my mother's story, I wanted to hear my father's. And see how much I was like him. Picking up my phone again, I dialed my sister's digits.

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><p><strong>So I totally realized I made an oopsie. The guys don't discover Abel's in Vancouver until later in season 3 and Tig had already been up in Oregon with Gemma by then. Sorry for the mistake! But, again, thank you all so much :] My other fic, Daughter of Anarchy, will hopefully be posted later tonight or tomorrow afternoon. Thanks guys :)<strong>


	3. Out of the Box

**Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, subscribed and reviewed. Thank you for reading this ingeneral :] It's you guys who make me want to write more. That and the amazingness of Kurt Sutter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

By the time I got home, everything downstairs was shut off. Except for one lamp, allowing me to see my way around. What had been in the kitchen sink was now in the dishwasher and the trash had been taken out too. Making a small grunt of approval, I shut the light of the lamp off and I slowly went up stairs. As I went further and further up the stairs, my eyes got heavier and heavier.

However, before could go to bed, I felt a fatherly obligation to check on my daughter. Slowly, I opened the door and was comforted to find that she was sleeping soundly. I couldn't stop the smile that spread on my face when a light snore left her. Shutting the light off, I closed the door and headed to my mother's room.

She, too, snoozed soundly. But she woke as I turned the light off.

"Mijo?" She grumbled, sitting up from under the heavy covers. "Has she come yet? Your mija?"

"Yeah, she's here, mom," I nodded in the dark. "Callie's your mija too, you know."

"I dunno, son," Mom laid back and curled back into her blankets. "I haven't met her yet. I still have yet to judge if she's like her demonic mother or not."

My mother's comment made me laugh, "Good night, Ma."

"Night, mijo."

Finally able to go to bed, I didn't even bother to take off the clothes I had worn that day. I peeled off my socks and shoes but didn't put the effort forth into taking off my sweatshirt and cut. It took me a while to get to sleep; that days stress and the chore of integrating Callie into the Sons' way of life clouded my mind. When I found a suitable solution, I was finally able to drift into the happy blackness that brought me relaxation.

I woke to the sound of feminine laughter. Which was not normal in my household. Changing my shirt from the day before, I found that sometime while I was sleeping, I had thrown my cut in its usual spot in my room. After putting socks and shoes on, I decended down the stairs and found my mother and daughter at the kitchen table. Someone had made pancakes and coffee, the clean dishes had been put away and the dirty ones were in the dishwasher.

"Morning, Dad," Callie smiled, holding a hot cup of coffee in her hands. "Hungry?"

"No, not really. I'll take some coffee though; black." I rubbed my eyes as I sat at the table. I placed a kiss on my mother's temple. "Morning, Ma. Did Callie help you out of bed this morning?"

My mom shook her head. "No, mijo, I did it myself."

"Mom," I scolded. "You know you shouldn't be getting out of that big of a bed by yourself."

"I am not a child, mijo," she snapped, sharply slapping my hand. "Do not treat me as such." A look of awkwardness sat on Callie's face as she set the coffe cup infront of me.

"What's your plan for the day, Cal?" I asked, cautiously sipping the piping hot coffee.

"Not sure," She shrugged. "Didn't you want me to meet your other biker friends?"

"Oh, yeah," I grumbled. Honestly, I had totally forgotten about the others. "You sure you want to be meeting them so soon after you got here?"

"Mijo," My mother scolded. It was apparently her turn to scold. "You talk as if you're embarrassed by your friends. I think they're a great bunch."

"Ma, will you just-" My annoyance made me loose the ability to make words so I stopped to gather my thoughts. "I thought Callie would have liked to unpack some more and find a place before meeting them."

"Already done," My mother shot back. "Well, the unpacking part. Besides, Nieta should get to know the most important people in the town."

I hung my head. My mom calling Callie granddaughter in Spanish got me. How was it that me, a cold blooded killer for the Sons of Anarchy, was melting into an emotional puddle because my mom used a Spanish word? She had always used them before. I scratched my head and looked into the brown eyes I had given my daughter.

"What do you think, Callie?"

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><p>There was a new vehicle parked where all the old ladies and family members of the Sons parked their cars. It was one of those BMW suv things; the license plate was from Texas. I suddenly remembered Happy's daughter had just moved here. As I parked my bike with the others, I noticed Tig sitting on his bike, getting ready to leave for southern Oregon.<p>

Once my bike shut off, a weird silence settled over the compound. I got off my bike and approached the man who I least got along with.

"Getting ready to leave?" I shoved my hands in my pockets as I talked to Tig. He looked at me like I had a hole in my head. "Okay, fair enough."

"You met Callie, yet?" Tig asked, flicking his cigarette butt away.

"Nuh-uh," I shook my head. "She in there?" Tig nodded. "Ride safe, brother."

Tig ignored my comment and started his bike, roaring out of the compound. I scratched my blonde head and went into the clubhouse. A few of the younger guys stood at the billiards table, chatting amongst each other. The older members like Clay, Bobby, and Piney stood at the bar, surrounding Happy and someone else. Must have been his daughter.

Happy, with his freakishly sharp hearing, heard me enter and left the group. He put an arm around my shoulders and lead me to the bar. "Kozik, meet my daughter."

She turned to look at me, a dazzling smile on her face. My closest friend's daughter was beautiful. Perfectly tanned skin, light brown eyes encased in a smart pair of glasses, and brown hair that fell down her back in waves. She didn't look anything like Happy; but those eyes sure were his. I should not have felt like such a teenager, seeing Happy's daughter for the first time. Not to mention she was way younger than I.

"Nice to meet you," I held out my hand, doing my best not to look like a retard. "Call me Kozik."

"Sounds like a last name to me," She smiled, taking my hand in shake. "I'm Carolina, but prefer Callie."

"Trust me, you don't want to know my first name." This was definitely not the first time I cursed my parents for my first name. Herman. Possibly the ugliest name in history.

But Carolina...a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Even if she hadn't been Happy's daughter, I doubted she would ever want to be with an old man like me. She turned back around and finished her conversation with Clay. Something about the Banditos and Hells Angels in Texas. I went to the pool table and watched as Jax and Opie lazily played. Juice was on the couch, probably hacking into someone's account or something.

"What do you think of Callie, Koz?" Opie asked as Jax knocked the yellow ball into a side pocket.

"She's...uh-" I lost words as I glanced over at her at the bar. Happy looked as if he was never going to leave her side. And I didn't blame him. He hadn't seen or heard from her in years.

"Hot." Jax answered for me as he stood. His best friend laughed. I bit the inside of my cheek. "What, you gone the other way all the sudden?"

"No," I was quick to defend my heterosexuality. "Carolina's my best friend's daughter, firstly. And secondly, she's like ten years younger than me. I doubt she'd even be interested..."

"Fine," Opie spoke as he bent down to score. "More for me."

"Oh yeah? What makes you think she'd be interested in a guy with two kids?" Jax challenged.

"You think you're a better canidate? You've got a kid and an old lady." Opie raised an eyebrow.

"It's the VP patch. The ladies can't keep their hands off me, baby."

Shaking my head, I looked back at the bar. I wondered if there was anything else Happy hadn't told me. I mean, I had known the guy for longer than I could keep track of. Shrugging off the haze of unasked questions, I watched Callie as she answered a call on her expensive cell phone. With a finger in her ear, she jumped off of the tall chair and exited the clubhouse. A light smile came on my face; she was going to have to get a cheap prepaid if she was planning to keep in contact with Hap.

Callie reentered the clubhouse a minute or two later. By this time Jax had lost to Opie and ventured to the bar to get another beer. Happy's daughter had a brilliant smile on her face as she put a hand on his arm. Feeling a little curious and absolutely nosey, I went to the bar and pretended like I was thirsty.

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><p>The call I had just ended had put an enormous smile on my face. As I returned to the bar, I attempted to hide it; no need to look like a smiling idiot. I noticed Jax had taken up a spot at the bar next to the chair I had sat in. I had to admit, the vice president of the club was cute - no, cute was for boys under fifteen. Jackson Teller was handsome, and he knew it. However, I had the strange feeling that he was already taken. Besides, I wasn't really looking for a boyfriend. Not even someone to hook up with. I had, after all, just moved there.<p>

"Hey, dad," I spoke softly, touching his arm to get his attention. From my peripheral, I noticed Kozik approach the bar. I couldn't help but think he was a little creepy. "I just got off the phone with a friend and she said that she's going to be here in a couple of days to drop off Reilly and help my with my own place."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," My father nodded, gripping his sweating beer in his left hand. "Does she need a place to crash too?"

"If you're okay with it..." I couldn't help the puppy dog eyes I gave him. It had been a serious habit when I lived with my mom and I never got out of it.

"Of course, don't give me that look. I already said it was fine for a damn mutt to be in my house for a bit..."

Ignoring the insult to my sweet pooch, I smiled. "Thanks."

"Where are you driving to pick your friend up?" Jax asked. Was it odd that I didn't mind complete strangers to know about my personal plans? I didn't think so. Or, at least I hadn't thought about it.

"You have a dog?" Juice spoke from the couch from across the room.

"Oakland airport. And yes, Juice, I have a dog."

"Oooh, Oakland's risky," Clay muttered; I swore I saw him narrow his eyes behind those sunglasses he hadn't yet taken off.

I was confused. Oakland risky? I hadn't ever heard any rumors about it being too bad. I knew there was a couple gangs, the Mayans and Niners, that pushed up on Oakland as best as they could. That's what I get for having a lawyer as a brother. With my confused look, I continued to stare at Clay.

"How so?"

"Let's say the Sons are in short supply of friends in O-Town." Piney, Opie's father skimmed over the details. I was going to have to get used to that, information being left out.

"I'm not a Son," I retorted. "And I just got here; I doubt they're going to find out I'm involved with ya'll by the time I get Lacey."

There was a silence, eerie and awkward, among the Sons and myself. Oh, Lord, there I went; being all Texas and everything. I knew it was the ya'll that had thrown everyone off.

"'Ya'll'?"My father growled. "Please don't tell me you're a hick..."

"No, it's a habit. If you remember I've been in Texas for nintey percent of my life. It takes a while for the Southern Charm to wear off."

I earned a few chuckles from that.

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><p>I felt like a rat, eavesdropping on Callie's conversation with the rest of the guys. However, it had been pretty cute to hear Callie say "ya'll". The blush that had risen across her face when she realized her faux pas made me smile. But the Lacey thing worried me. I swore I caught a sense of hesitation when I heard her say "friend'. I felt like Tig, creeping on this girl's personal business. But now that the question was in my mind, I couldn't get it out.<p>

Could Callie be gay?

Not long after her dialect incident, Callie declared it was time for her to go home. She was still tired from the drive and was used to Texas time. Where she had been was two hours a head of Charming; I didn't blame her for wanting to sleep. Sleep was one of those things a Son had to get used to giving up, along with his sense of right and wrong. Even I had to admit mine was somewhat skewed.

Callie said her goodbye's and nice-to-meet-you's before leaving. I had recieved a handshake. Which I suppose could strengthen my case that she played for the other team, but she had hugged everyone else. I guess she had something against me. As she left the clubhouse, Jax followed close on her heel. The unhappiness on Happy's face was clear.

"I got it, Hap," I uttered, patting his back and heading outside.

I needed a smoke anyway.

As the two walked to her golden BMW, they talked loud enough for our Russian connections to hear them in Saint Petersburg. Alright, perhaps not that loud; but I was able to hear.

"Like it in Charming so far?" Jax asked, his skinny fingered hands in the front pocket of his jeans.

"Well, since I've only been here for a day, I'm judging on appearances. Give me a week or two and I'll be able to answer better." She replied, earning a laugh from him.

"Listen, what Piney said about Oakland is true," Jax drawled once they stopped at the back end of her car. "And you're right that so far, they don't know about you. But they, the Niners and Mayans, got people up here, and right now, they ain't happy with us. As soon as you leave this lot, I can guarantee they're going to find all they can about you. I'm sure it would put Happy at ease if someone escorted you there. And this isn't a suggestion; I'm telling you Opie and I are going to ride to O-Town with you to pick up your friend and dog."

Callie screwed up her lips for a second or two and focused her weight on her left foot. Looking up as Jax, I could tell she wasn't a fan of this idea.

"Well," She started. "Only if it doesn't inconvinence you guys. I'm not going to fight it because I have a feeling you'll just do what you want. Either way, I'm going to Oakland to get Lacey and Reilly."

Jax chuckled. "Alright, lemme give you my number incase you need something else. Do you have some paper? And maybe a pen, too?"

It was Callie's turn to laugh as she dug into her purse, retrieving both items. Jax scribbled down his digets and gave everything back to her. She thanked him for his hospitality, to which he replied "no problem." They hugged, as if the two had known each other since they were kids. As Jax strode back to the clubhouse and Callie pulled out of where she parked, I kept my eyes focused on the concrete in front of me.

As the BMW left the loft, Jax lit up his own cigarette and stood next to where I sat on the bench.

"What do you think of 'er?" He asked, cancer stick hanging on his lips.

"I think you should be focused on Tara and getting your kid back." I tried not to sound too hostile.

"Easy man," Jax raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I'm looking to marry Callie or anything."

I shrugged. "That's probably a good thing."

"Why?" He gave me another weird look.

"Something's off. She's _too_ pretty, _too_ nice. I don't think she's into dudes."

Jax gave a hearty laugh and put out his cigarette.

"That's the funny thing about you, Koz," He spoke, still laughing as he opened the door to the clubhouse. "You think out of the box... _WAAYY_ out of the box."


End file.
